Jacob's Note
by be my escape1
Summary: This is Jacob's response to recieving Bella's Letter.


A big thank you to Cocoa and Butterscotch for betaing this piece.

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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I was lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling; it was my newest hobby. The action required nothing from me and allowed the blissful solitude to consume me. If I stared long enough at the ceiling, the speckles created pictures. For me there was only one picture–her face. It was there even when I wasn't looking for it. It was behind my eyelids when I tried to sleep, bringing along with it the pain and worry. But the anger was the worst. It raged at the most unexpected times and always at the wrong people. My dad and the pack were always on the receiving end. They understood though, and so did I–better than they knew. The anger was my defense whenever someone came a little too close. Anger was easier than pain.

Charlie had been over a few times since I had dropped off the motorcycle. I gathered that Bella was grounded, and she was still allowed to see the leech but only at her house. I never stayed long when Charlie came by; it hurt too much to hear about her, especially when it was about her and the bloodsucker.

My blissful solitude was broken when I heard Charlie's cruiser pull in front of the house. This meant Bella was alone–well, not really alone. Charlie's voice echoed a hello through the house, and then the voices became soft. They were talking about us again. Neither Bella nor I had a mother around to gossip about us, so our fathers did it. I knew it was only out of concern, but Charlie was very much out of the loop. If only he knew the truth.

I decided to fulfill my required hello, and then do what I always did when he was here–check on Bella. If Charlie was here, that allowed the leech to be alone with her. Just the thought of it enraged me, and a low grumbling built in my chest. Forcing myself off the bed, I walked out into the kitchen and the conversation stopped. I felt like a pariah; more than one conversation had ended upon my entering a room.

"Hey, Jacob, how are you?" Charlie smiled warmly, but his eyes held worry.

"Fine, thanks, Charlie. Dad, I'm off for a while." It was all I could say. Small talk with Charlie wasn't something I could handle; inevitably, Bella always came up. Avoiding conversation was the best option. I walked out the door, and hushed tones of concern began again behind me.

Walking deep into the woods, I phased and began to run. The running always helped; it released and eased the anger, but it never dulled the pain. After a brief moment I could hear the others, Embry and Jared. Luckily Paul wasn't patrolling right now. He had the hardest time dealing with my thoughts. I tried to keep my mind on the task at hand, but often I strayed to thoughts of her. Plus, Paul had a hard time keeping his opinions to himself. Embry was good about the situation. He understood how hard this was for me; it was hard for him too. He had become fond of Bella.

Embry's voice rang clear in my thoughts. _Jacob you know you shouldn't go over there. You're just torturing yourself._ He was right. We were told to stay away from Bella's, Sam and his rules, but that rule didn't apply to me. There was nothing that could keep me checking on her and everyone knew it.

_I have to go check on her. Charlie's here again, and honestly, I can't be in the house while he and dad discuss me…well, us actually._ _Us_. There was no _us_, I reminded myself before the thought could manifest the pain.

_Be careful, and we'll be close by if you need us._ It was a silly thing to say. They were always close by when we were in wolf form; my mind was never my own then.

My paws pounded harder against the earth as I headed toward Bella's house. Running into a leech never concerned me; running into Bella was another story. I continued to avoid her phone calls even after our talk in the forest. I saw no point in taking the phone calls. She had made her choice, and it broke my heart to even consider that possibility.

Approaching the edge of the forest, I slowed. The forest was teeming with the sickeningly sweet odor of vampire. The scent led right to Bella's house. I was certain it was him; there was always the same offensive stench when Charlie was away. I ran quickly around the surrounding forest, my nose rummaging through the air for others–there were none. I sat at the edge of the dark forest like a sentinel, waiting, for what I was never certain of.

I sat watch for about an hour, always checking the forest for others. Charlie's visits usually only lasted an hour, and judging by the setting sun he would be back soon. Glancing one last time at Bella's window, I turned and headed home. There was a dull ache in my heart as I flew through the woods–not having seen her in almost a week caused me physical pain. I had hoped it would go away with time. But it still lingered, gripping tighter after being at her house and not seeing her.

I phased back in the forest just outside my house. I stopped, looking closely at the doorway to make sure Charlie had left. Walking to the steps slowly, I could sense Dad waiting for me. A look of concern was etched into his tired face.

"How was your run, Jacob?" He spoke in a voice more tired than his face looked. I eyed him curiously; it was unlike him to make small talk.

"It was fine… what's going on?" A look of shock played on his face, as if I wouldn't think his interest in my run was odd.

"Well I…" He paused, thinking about his response. "I was just wondering," he said sheepishly.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What have you and Charlie cooked up?"

"I am worried about you, Jacob. Nothing makes you smile, and you're always so angry. I understand, I do, but this moping and torturing yourself can't go on."

"Yes, it can." My tone was defiant, the anger resurfacing.

Dad sighed heavily. "Here," he said softly, raising his hand, "she sent this for you through Charlie."

Unease filled me as I looked at the note he was holding. Quickly snatching it from his hand, I stalked off to my room. The paper was soft, smelling faintly of her and only her. Its mere presence quickened my heart. I stared at it, thinking about all the things I hoped it would say, but knowing that it wouldn't say any of them.

Slowly, carefully, I unraveled the delicate folded square. Her handwriting scrawled across the page; it was easy to see where she had started and stopped, choosing her words carefully. The paper trembled slightly in my hands.

I stared blankly at the paper. Her voice echoed the words in my head, the words that cut to my very soul. She meant well, but the words only brought me pain. I missed her, I missed her more than she could possibly imagine. She had made being a werewolf bearable. I was her sun during her darkest night, the only thing that kept her moving. Yet she discarded me and my feelings so easily to choose a soulless life. How could she think I would be okay with her being a leech? She had missed the point completely.

Pulling the door open, I stomped out into the kitchen and retrieved a pen and a pad of paper. She wanted a note–I would give her a note. I sat on my bed and began to write the words that formed in response to her note.

**Bella,**

I don't know why you are making Charlie carry notes to Billy like we're in second grade–if I wanted to talk to you I would just answer the

I breathed deeply through my nose. Those words didn't seem right. They were true, but not exactly what I had wanted to say. I crossed them out, searching for a different response.

**You made the choice here, okay? You can't have it both ways when**

Again the harsh words flowed effortlessly onto the page, and again they were wrong. I struggled with a way to express myself without showing the hurt. Again I crossed out the words. I reread her note. The part about me befriending a leech was almost comical.

**What part of 'mortal enemies' is too complicated for you to**

The rage built in my body; I hadn't realized I was squeezing the pen until it was too late. Black splatters of ink kissed the page. Opening my hand carefully, I surveyed the damage. The pen was completely destroyed; the only thing remaining was a sticky black pool of ink in my hand. It reminded me of my future–black and broken. I rose off my bed and headed back into the kitchen.

"Jacob, is everything all right?" Dad didn't usually show concern, but he knew this was bad. Never before had I doubted if I would get past the challenges in my life. Becoming a werewolf was an unimaginable challenge, yet I survived and even took it in stride. But losing Bella was something much worse than becoming a werewolf.

"It's fine, Dad. I just need another pen," I replied softly and walked back to my room.

Starting again, the words flowed in a softer tone.

**Look, I know I am being a jerk, but there is just no way around**

Looking at the words, I knew they weren't right. I drew a black line through them once again. I inhaled deeply, trying to find the words that wouldn't come. My eyebrows knit together; there had to be words to describe my feelings.

**We can't be friends when you are spending all your time with a bunch of**

No, still not right. Thinking about her was hard, but trying to send her a message was worse. The pain began to consume me. The loneliness created by her absence tortured my soul.

**It just makes it worse when I think about you too much, so don't write anymore**

Did I really want to close that door? What if she wanted to come back–if she didn't want to be a leech after all? I breathed heavily, fighting the pain.

**Yeah, I miss you too. A lot. Doesn't change anything. Sorry.**

Jacob

It was simple and to the point. It exposed all my weaknesses using hardly any words. I quickly folded the page and walked back into the kitchen to see Dad.

"Here," I said gruffly, handing the paper to him. "Give this to Charlie the next time he comes." His eyes were sad as he took the note and looked at me.

"Jacob…" He paused, unsure how to continue. We had never before had to talk about girls or mortal enemies or war. "Are you going to be okay?" The question caught me off guard. Was I going to be okay? I didn't have any reassuring words for him or myself.

"I don't know." The words were soft and full of truth. I walked back to my room, laid on my bed, and stared at the ceiling. 


End file.
